


The Valley

by A_Random_NPC



Series: Love and Honor [7]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Kul Tiras, World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:56:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24648337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Random_NPC/pseuds/A_Random_NPC
Summary: Rupurt Davenport and Tannette Warden are surprised twice on their way into Stormsong Valley.
Series: Love and Honor [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2168667
Kudos: 1





	The Valley

The only warning they were given was a low growl from the underbrush.

“Rupurt, ‘ware!” Tannette cried as her body ripped into worgen form. She returned the growl with a savage one of her own as an odd beast created from nothing but sticks and leather came tearing out of the brush towards them. Arminius immediately ripped a toggle to shed the packs he carried and launched himself skyward to await her commands. Rupurt swung his mace, knocking the creature aside as he, too, shifted into his massive bear form with a guttural roar. The creature immediately focused on Rupurt as the larger threat, snarling as it picked itself up off the ground, readying for another charge.

Tannette palmed a wildfire bomb from her belt, readying the explosive. She shouted for Rupurt to stand back, and tossed it at the creature’s head with deadly accuracy after feeling the charge click. It exploded in a small, concentrated blast, causing fire to erupt from between its wicker horns. It keened as it turned to face her, managing to land a swipe along her side before Rupurt interposed himself between the two, laying it flat with a mighty bash of one of his heavy paws. Tannette whistled sharply, gritting her teeth against the pain, directing Arminius to attack it as it stood and tried to reorient itself for another attack. The hippogryph struck like a falcon, his claws curled into double fists, knocking it askew once again. She pulled out the small crossbow she carried on her belt and shot from the hip, slightly worried the poison in the darts wouldn’t affect the beast. Rupurt thrashed in order to back the creature away from her, his deep roars sending vibrations through her body. She dropped her jaw in a lupine grin, pleased to have a deady and effective partner.

Another whistle from her had Arminius raking the creature from stem to stern with his talons as she closed in, swiping at it from behind as Rupurt distracted it with flurrying blows of his own. She was pleased to see large chunks of the creature ripping away with every one of their strikes. The creature howled, its eerie voice echoing through the forest. Tannette swore and struck it with the butt of her scythe, hoping to shut it up before it called more hell down upon them. The blow cracked its lower jaw leaving it to hang in pieces as it once again turned to attack her. Rupurt roared a challenge and reared back, his massive form coming down upon the creature with a solid crash, breaking it into pieces.

The trio waited a moment to see if any other creatures were poised to strike from the forest that surrounded the woods, but slowly calmed after several minutes ticked by with no further danger arriving from the woods. Arminius crowed from his position in the air, his wings causing eddies of pressure around them that cooled the sweat that dripped from her brow. Tannette prodded the remains of the wicker creature with the end of her scythe, disturbed to see flickers of magic disappearing from the depths of the construct’s core. She frowned when she saw the same teal edged black smoke emanating from off of Rupurt. Was he at risk of corruption? She didn’t have to wait long as he shifted back, his wicker bear form disappearing with the familiar crackle of breaking branches.

“Drust magic,” he said shortly, answering her unspoken question. “Though not Thornspeaker magics, not by a long shot.” She noticed a slight slur of accent in his voice, a sign that he was stressed. He had confessed the previous night to having a very strong accent normally, and that he had worked very hard to correct it to be taken seriously as a businessman. He shook his head and prodded the core with a booted toe thoughtfully, slowing his words as he spoke to correct his accent. “We Thornspeakers tap into both sides of nature to maintain balance. Death is as important as life in the cycle of nature. I, uh, have a slightly stronger affinity with that side of the balance than that of life.” He seemed embarrassed to admit such a thing to her, though she nodded with understanding. She shifted on her paws, feeling the gusts from Arminius’s wings ruffle her fur as he landed behind her, trilling happily. She still felt uneasy about him seeing her in worgen form but knew it was a silly concern. He viewed her with the same level gaze as he did when she was human. She inhaled deeply, attempting to scent more attackers on the wind but was relieved when only the astringent pine and clean water met her nose. The pine made her sneeze, lightening the mood.

“Not all of us can be healers, Rupurt.” She tried to keep her tone light as she grimly checked Arminius for any damage. He squawked at her and preened her hair slightly, easing her worry and confirming that he was fine. She chirruped to him soothingly, watching him circle and scratch at the ground to settle himself after the fight. She checked their packs for damage and began assembling the quick release toggle that allowed Arminius to shed them so quickly again while she spoke. “I barely have a touch of natural magic myself. Only enough to heal myself and Arminius in times of extreme duress and need.”

“Aye, many of you hunter types do. Not enough to be druids, but enough to be effective when needed.” Rupurt continued to break apart the construct, frowning as he did so. The wood seemed to disintegrate into powder under his feet. She leaned forward and watched a leather strap curl up and become brittle before her eyes. It seemed the death of the construct removed any preservation spells that had held it in place. “I’ve not seen a construct such as this in years.”

“Oh?” She was momentarily distracted as she sought inner peace, seeking to release her worgen form. Her hand automatically reached for the pendant she wore around her neck, allowing the power contained within the azerite crystal to course through her, aiding her transformation. Rupurt watched as the shadow of the Curse dissipated from around her body, leaving behind the short, thin woman he was partnered with behind. She checked her ribs with a grimace, seeing where one of the creature’s claws had snagged her through one of the links in her mail. She cursed brightly and began unlacing the side of her armor to inspect the wound, furious with herself at not dodging the attack. The wound was shallow and mostly painless, but there was no telling what could have been hiding on those wicker claws.

Rupurt held up a hand to draw her attention and quirked an eyebrow at her as she exposed the long scratches that laced down her side to the air. Her eyes filled with a slight pleading expression as she eased off the outer layer of her mail.

“Would you? I hate to tap into your power if we can help it, but if there’s more out there I’d prefer to be at my best.” He nodded his assent and stood, dusting his knees off as he approached her. He pressed his fingertips lightly above the wounds and frowned, his eyes slightly unfocused as he concentrated. Tannette kept a sharp lookout, knowing now would be the moment a wise enemy would attack if they were waiting in the shadows. Her attention was met with nothing but the hiss of the wind through the pine needles and the small tick of Arminius’s talons when they hit stone as he paced the roadway.

She released a sigh of relief when she felt a small trickle of healing magic flow into her, the familiar sensation of druidic magics comforting her. She had always felt more at ease with druidic magics over the sting of the Light. Worgen were, after all, the children of Goldrinn. She sent a small thank you to the Wild God, knowing the savagery of the wolf protected and guided her in battle. Tannette smiled gratefully at Rupurt, who knelt before the creature, picking up a small wicker charm from the debris. Arminius pecked at their bags, indicating he was ready to be loaded down again. Her hands automatically did the task while she watched Rupurt, smoothing feathers here and there, buckling straps and ensuring the weight was evenly distributed.

“This here is a wicker construct, made by one of the coven.” Rupurt said slowly. He turned the charm in his hands, showing it to her. “Constructs made of bone, leather, and wood, made to act as an army for the witches. Drustvar has apparently had issues with them of late.” He snapped the charm in his massive hands, shaking his head. “If they've also made it here to Tiragarde Sound, the authorities will need to be warned.”

“We can write a missive and send it along once we reach Highland Pass.” Tannette joined him at the construct, watching Arminius finally settle with a squawk and full body shake that sent loose feathers drifting to the ground. “We’ve the dispatch tubes keyed to both the 7th Legion and SI:7. We can let them both know to be on the lookout for any mischief.” She recovered the small poison dart she had shot the beast with and eyed the decayed wood around it with satisfaction. “Looks like poison is effective after all.”

“That it is,” Rupurt said gruffly as he stood. He offered her a hand, which she took gratefully, grinning slightly when she felt the strength in his grip. She dropped his hand as if it burned her as soon as she was on her feet, tucking the bolt away to recharge with poison after they stopped for the night. She scrubbed her hands on her thighs, glancing around uneasily before reaching to redo her mail armor. Rupurt’s hand slowly drifted down to his side, his face impassive as he was butted playfully by Arminius.

“We’d best get moving if we want to make it to the Pass.” Her voice was oddly tight when she finally turned to face him again. Rupurt gave her a look heavy with speculation but nodded in acquiesce before shouldering his mace and patting Arminius on the head. Tannette slung her scythe onto her back and followed him, scenting the wind as she walked. Things between the pair had become more friendly after her midnight confession of being a worgen. She no longer felt compelled to hide her heightened senses from him, and he opened up to her more, telling her of his time as a tavern keep and sailor. She relished the stories he told of distant harbors and days spent at sea as they walked. He seemed just as curious to learn of her own adventures, exclaiming loudly when she confessed to have been on a strike force deployed to Argus.

“An entirely different world?” He had asked, incredulous as they had passed through a lumber yard. “How is that even possible?” She had shrugged, enjoying his reaction. It seemed odd even to her that less than a year ago she had been on an entirely different planet scouting out the ethereals and their dangerous use of void magics on Mac’aree. The void magics haunted her even now, the whispers of the flooded pools that swirled like miniature galaxies throughout the ruins of the draenei’s society sounding in her deepest nightmares.

“I can hardly believe it myself,” she admitted, dodging two men carrying a large saw. Arminius chirruped at her, excited to be surrounded by new people. “I was sent to Mac’aree to scout with the Unseen Path. It was a sad, broken world.” She had paused then, thinking of the sword in Silithus. She felt a sympathetic throb from the fractured piece of azerite hidden against her skin and winced. “I would be loath to see our world fall prey to that same fate.” The look of approval he had given her then had made her feel oddly pleased, so she distracted them both with tales of encountering the Void in the northern reaches of the foreign world.

The pair chatted as the two of them passed quietly up the hill towards the pass that would lead them into Stormsong Valley. They made good time, politely excusing themselves past traders and their pack animals ladened with wares destined for the shipyards. Rupurt asked several oddly ladened traders about their business in the Valley and soon had it explained to him that many of the goods were headed towards Brennadam to help with the rebuilding efforts. This information cheered him up tremendously until they finally crested the hilltop and stopped at the sight of a backlog of traders arguing fiercely with the guards of the pass. Tannette immediately pulled them into a copse of trees to avoid drawing attention to them so they could observe the odd gathering below. Rupurt started with surprise, but readily allowed her to pull him away, frowning as he watched the scene before them. Neither of them seemed to notice nor care that her hand stayed on his arm as they watched the scene below.

“I’ve supplies needed for Brennadam, you incompetent buffoon!” One trader yelled, pointing his finger accusingly at a massive man in the uniform of the Stormsong Valley guard who stood in his way. The mule standing behind him brayed harshly as it shook itself, making the baskets on its back rustle. One lid flipped loose, exposing a load of medicinal herbs that shone with druid magics.“Didn’t you hear the city was recently destroyed in an attack? They need what we’re providing! The Thornspeakers specifically blessed these herbs for the wounded!”

“Lord Stormsong has closed the Valley,” the man bellowed back, waving a document that dripped with official seals in the trader’s face. “It is not our duty to question why, only to enforce his will. Back to the Sound with you! All of you! Stormsong Valley needs nothing from the Proudmoores.” The last sentence was spat out as if it had left a disgusting taste in the guard’s mouth. His announcement was met with an uneasy muttering from the crowd of traders, who shuffled nervously eyeing the guards who had drawn their weapons. The trader who had shouted spat at the feet of the man bearing the writ, hatred written across his face.

“You’ll rue the day, you ungrateful lot. When your children cry from cold and lack of shelter, don’t come laying the blame at our feet!” He hissed, turning his ladened mule back towards Tiragarde. Rupurt and Tannette watched the scene below as other traders began doing the same. Rupurt frowned, stroking his mustache as he watched the guards. 

“This isn’t right,” he muttered, his deep voice heavy with concern. “Those supplies are desperately needed in Brennadam. Why would Lord Stormsong turn away aid for his people? I can understand closing the Valley after what happened, but surely he would accept assistance for his people to rebuild.”

“Maybe things have changed since you left and they no longer have need of them?” Tannette suggested, watching as a harried inspector attempted to prevent a crate being confiscated by a guard from one of the traders. Both men protested loudly until a pike was shoved in the direction of their throats silenced them. The inspector woefully shrugged to the trader, who nodded sadly as he turned away. The inspector trudged back to his station, trying to ignore the loud guffaws of the guard as they broke into the crate, revealing bottles of what could only be alcohol. Tannette nudged Rupurt, nodding towards the inspector at his table slightly apart from the rest of the throng. “We might have someone we can question here.”

He squinted, looking at the man, the concern on his face only deepening with recognition. 

“I know him. We’ve spoken before, when I’ve come through this way before. He knows I’m a Valley man.” He glanced at Arminius, who had nudged Tannette until she had placed an arm around him to comfort them both. The violently purple hippogryph trilled at him, trying to comfort the troubled man. He smiled, distracted, but gave the happy creature a pat between the horns nonetheless. “Perhaps it would be best if our flashy friend made himself scarce for a while.”

“Yes, that might be best,” she mused, unslinging her scythe and buckling it onto the packs. She paused a moment, considering, then unbuckled her pauldrons as well.“We’d best appear as unimposing as possible while we’re down there. If they’re turning away even the known traders, two people from the Alliance will surely be even more unwelcome. Arminius knows to shed the packs somewhere safe and guard if he gets himself into trouble.” 

Rupurt hesitated, but did the same with his mace, taking his personal pack from Arminius’s back. He also gathered up a large herb pouch he’d been systematically filling on their way towards his home territory. The leather pack smelled incredible and was loaded with the fruits of his labor in a very literal way. Tannette grabbed her pack containing only her clothing and letter writing implements, ensuring the rest of the load was well balanced and not too heavy for her friend to fly. She had him trained to lay down if the weight was more than he could bear, but he showed no sign of being anything but content and happy while she fussed over the straps. She grabbed him by the beak and stared deeply into one of his eyes.

“Alright, ‘Minius, you know what to do. Go find a hiding spot, and play least in sight for a while.” She reinforced her request with a small shake of his beak. “Be a clever lad and find a hiding spot.” The hippogryph regarded her with one brilliant eye, then the other, and trilled his understanding. She stood back as he extended his wings and shot skyward, veering first south towards Tiragarde Sound, then east towards the snow capped mountains. Rupurt watched the whole process with fascination, wondering for the first time just how clever his feathered companion really was despite his often goofy antics. Tannette caught his look and gave him a small, pleased smile.

“Hippogryphs are more clever than folk give them credit for,” she offered as she shouldered her pack. “The kaldorei know this, even if most other folk don’t.” 

“Having been raised by them, I’m sure you’re a bit of an expert.” He replied quietly as he, too, shouldered his packs. She grinned, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“As best as a creature with less than a century life span can,” she answered cheerfully, settling herself to appear like a well geared traveler. “Now, how shall we say we know one another, since the truth would likely get us turned away? Long lost relation? Family friend? Business partner? Love interest?” She raised her eyebrows in a mockingly suggestive expression at the last bit, startling a laugh out of him. He shook his head, his grey eyes sparkling.

“Haven’t had one of those in years, lass, and nearly everyone knows it. Family friend will do since you’re fresh off the boat in Tiragarde.” Much to her shock, she felt a small pang of elation at the revelation that he was unattached. While she chided herself for unprofessionalism, he held up the bag of herbs and grinned. “Went to pick you up to visit the family, decided to do some herb gathering along the way. Not a lie, exactly.”

“Just omitting most of the truth.” She replied, cracking her knuckles. “Let’s see if all of those lessons in subterfuge Alexi tried hammering into my brain will pay off.” He chuckled as they made their way out of their hiding spot and onto the road, heading directly towards the inspector who still sat at his table, trying to ignore the rest of the crew around him. Rupurt nodded towards the guards, who gruffly returned his greetings with glares and curt nods of their own. He recognized a few as being patrons of his tavern and wondered to himself how they could be turning away aid that their families needed. He forced himself to relax as he approached the inspector and laid the pack on his table, the thump making the man look up with a pained expression.

“Declaring herbs and a family friend, Inspector Berren.” He said quietly, trying to act as if this were a normal day. The inspector squinted at him, then smiled with relief when he recognized Rupurt. His thin face looked haggard now that they were close enough to see him, with dark circles under his eyes indicating stress and a lack of sleep. His coppery hair was threaded through with streaks of silver and grey, making him appear much older. Rupurt frowned at the drastic change, but held his tongue.

“Master Davenport, it is good to see you again! I had wondered how long you would be away. Nasty business with your tavern and all that, old chap.” The inspector unbuckled the herb pouch, his hands automatically doing his work even as the nervousness was apparent on his face. His voice and hands shook as he poked through the herbs. “I’m afraid the Valley has been closed, Lord Stormsong’s orders. Your family friend will have to turn back. Blockade is in effect.” Rupurt scratched his chin, trying to appear nonchalant as he noticed several guards turning their way. Tannette gave them all bright smiles and stuck her hand out to greet the man.

“Inspector Berren, was it? Tannette Warden, late of Menethil Harbor. Are you certain I have to turn back? I’ve come all this way to see Rupurt and his family.” One of the guards detached herself from the crate of alcohol currently being divvied up among the group, her face settled into a mask of suspicion. Tannette didn’t even give her a glance as she slammed a gauntleted fist against the table, startling the inspector into dropping the herb pack.

“Yew heard ‘im,” she said, her voice harsh as a crow, “Valley’s closed. Git back to Tiraguard.” Rupurt watched with bated breath as Tannette slowly turned her head towards the woman. He looked for the tell tale signs of the Curse coalescing around her, but was strangely proud to see no evidence of Tannette beginning to turn. She gave the woman a charming smile as something glinted in her off hand, catching his attention. Apparently it caught the guard’s as well, as her eyes flicked to her hand and back to her face. She brushed against Tannette rudely in a motion so abrupt it nearly knocked the smaller woman to the ground. Rupurt steadied her, only seeing the gold exchange hands because of his close proximity to Tannette. “Don’ let me catch ya here again, wench.”

“Naturally,” Tannette muttered, rubbing her shoulder where the larger woman had checked her. Inspector Berren gave her a horrified look as she turned back to him, her face once again wreathed in smiles. “Now, Inspector, you are absolutely certain there is no way I can obtain approval of some kind to visit my friends in the Valley? Absolutely no way at all?” Rupurt leaned forward to accept the pack as Berren shoved it across the table to him. She leaned forward, fluttering her eyelashes now that she had his undivided attention, making Rupurt choke back a laugh. Seeing his normally somber partner play an empty headed flirt was too much for him. He shifted his foot to step on the edge of one of her boots, silently telling her to back off slightly.

“I’m afraid not, Miss Warden.” Berren gulped, looking nervously around the scene before them, wringing his hands. Tannette winced in sympathy as he reached up and rubbed his shoulders, clearly seeing the cords of his neck standing out from the pain of what could only be a monster of a tension headache. A raucous laugh from the guards behind them made him jolt to his feet and seize Rupurt’s arm to lead them away. “I will escort you back to the path to Tiragarde. Master Davenport, you may proceed as you are a resident of Stormsong unless you plan on going back with her.” 

“I will stay with Tannette, thank you all the same Inspector. If we cannot bring her to the family, perhaps we can bring the family to her.” Rupurt said cheerfully, trying to minimize the fuss. The guards relaxed as they saw them head back towards the road back to Boralus. The trio kept their chatter to simple topics like the weather and the recent attack on Brennadam until they were well out of sight of the guardpost. Inspector Berren spun, grabbing Rupurt by the elbow and looked around frantically to ensure they were not followed.

“Master Davenport, old friend, whatever it is you’re doing, I suggest you find a different way into the Valley,” he whispered urgently. Tannette leaned in, frowning as she watched the man’s face. “There is something going on in the northern part of the land that is not sitting well with much of the local population. Many of the guards that are normally stationed here are gone, or have undergone severe personality changes. Belinda, the guard you paid off? She’s normally the sweetest woman this side of the mountains, and yet…” He shrugged helplessly, his face creased with worry. Rupurt patted his shoulder. “Everyone has been acting strangely, as if they’ve been cursed or something!”

“We’re here to help, old friend,” he said simply. Tannette nodded, extracting their orders from a hidden pocket in the front of her armor. She showed him the official Alliance seals, making him exclaim with relief.

“Tidemother’s blessings, at last! We had heard rumors of course....” He cried as she tucked them away again. He coughed into his fist, shivering slightly. “Contact your Alliance and ask, no, beg them for assistance! There hasn’t been word from the shipyards in nearly a week. Folk are going missing left and right, and Sagehold has been… Odd lately.” He nervously bit his fingernails and began pacing in front of them. Tannette snorted and slapped his hand gently away from his face when she noticed he had bitten them down to the quick. “I’ve had no word from my brother in weeks. You remember him, the Tidesage?” Rupurt nodded, laying a small healing spell on the man’s hands.

“I remember him. Mikhal, was it?” He noticed Tannette had pulled out a small pad of waterproof paper and a grease pencil and was writing quickly but neatly in code. Always prepared, that one, he thought affectionately as he layered a calming spell on the frantic man before him once his hands began healing. Inspector Berren’s eyes filled with gratitude as he realized what he was doing. He flexed his hands, rubbing them together with relief as the cracked and bleeding cuticles began to smooth out.

“Yes, Mikhal Berren, Tidesage late of the Shrine of Storms. Normally he’s in touch at least once a week, but neither I nor his beau have seen nor heard from him in ages. It isn’t like him to just disappear like that!” Tannette’s sharp gaze pinned him where he stood, her voice curt.

“What’s this about the shipyards? We've heard rumors about the fleet-” She was interrupted by a sharp gesture from him.

“What fleet?” He said bitterly, his voice just as pointed. “The Kul Tiran fleet has been missing for months! The Shrine of Storms has been closed to all for nearly as long. I don’t know who told the Alliance that we have a fleet, but we do not!” Tannette continued writing, her face troubled. Inspector Berren turned to face Rupurt once again, his hands spread wide in a gesture of entreaty. “We need your help as much as they need ours, Master Davenport. Please, send word back to the Alliance, and get out there to see for yourself what is going on.”

“We’ve word ourselves, friend.” Rupurt quickly filled in the inspector about the presence of the wicker creature they had destroyed earlier, making the man groan and cover his face with his hands. Tannette finished writing and ripped the missives from the pad, rolling them into compact bundles and sealing them with a small drop of adhesive. Seeing that Rupurt had the stranger distracted, she turned and walked a short distance away until she was shrouded by a small tree. She muttered a small passphrase, making the missives glow slightly as they sealed with an arcane lock. After extracting two small tubes from her belt and sliding the missives into them, she muttered another phrase and smiled when she felt the tubes heat up in her hands, indicating that the messages were sent to the intended recipients. Knowing Alexi and Ryland, they’d consider this information high on the list of priorities they’d show to their respective commanders. She tucked the tubes away once again and mussed her clothing, making it appear as if she had slipped away for a small amount of privacy to take care of business.

“You’d best get back to your post,” she heard Rupurt say as she approached. His tone was soft, but firm. “We’ll hie away back to Tiragarde and be out of your hair.” She grinned as the man rubbed his bald pate and gave a weak chuckle. He clasped Rupurt on the shoulder, shaking him slightly, but turned and trudged back to his post. Tannette’s eyes followed him thoughtfully as she considered their next move. The guards were attentive, well geared, and posed a considerable threat. The mountains naturally funneled down into that point, and the river running beside it was calm enough that it wouldn't offer much cover for anyone trying to sneak in that way. Her eye twitched at the thought of wearing heavy mail while swimming through water anyhow, both for the danger and the required upkeep after to prevent it from rusting. She bit her lip, weighing her thoughts.

“The Pass is guarded at all times, day and night correct?” Rupurt nodded as he crossed his arms and regarded the mountains to their right. She followed his gaze and noticed a small trail in the distance threading its way into the pass. There was scarce cover, but from a distance and if they kept to the tree line... They could make it. 

“Aye, but that’s not the only way into the Valley. The mountains, though… They’d provide us cover enough. We’d have to avoid the lodge up there, but.” He shrugged, turning to face her. “Not our worst option. We'd need to disguise ourselves so we don't stand out against the snow or wait for the cover of night.”

“How long would it take for us to make it on foot? Or could we fly?” She inquired. Their journey had already taken several days, and she was unwilling to add more to the trek if they could help it. Rupurt rubbed his chin as he considered, his fingers rasping against the stubble there.

“There’s tricky crosswinds in these mountains,” he said reluctantly. “The cool air of the mountains pushes the wet, warmer air from off the sea, and can be a problem for those unfamiliar with them. You say your beastie is still recovering from a wing injury?” She nodded, biting the inside of her cheek, already knowing his answer. “Even with the packs distributed between him and me, it’ll still be too much of a risk for his wing to carry that much weight if he's to carry you.” He gave her an apologetic grin when she snorted and rolled her eyes, mockingly offended. “If he were completely good to go, I’d say we could risk it, but not over the higher passes, and not if that rolls in.” He pointed out towards the Valley where a storm was clearly gathering.

“Goldrinn’s teeth, you’re more than likely right.” Tannette sighed. “Arminius headed in that direction but he knows his stuff. The second he meets resistance in uncanny air, he grounds himself. He’d never go up in a storm with me and packs, even with an experienced flyer next to him. He’ll find us once we start in that direction.” 

“A truly clever lad, then.” Rupurt grinned, adjusting the collar on his massive greatcoat. "Remind me to stay on his good side."

“He’s the best.” The quiet pride in her voice made him smile. She pushed several stray hairs that had fallen out of her severe bun out of her face and looked up into her companion’s eyes. “Shall we then, Master Davenport? We’ll need to be well away from here before we turn to the mountains.”

“Follow me, if you will, Miss Warden.” His eyes sparkled as he settled his packs once more onto his back and set forth once again along the path into Tiragarde. “We’ll be in the mountains in no time.”


End file.
